


ballroom

by cluel6ss



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Flirting, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluel6ss/pseuds/cluel6ss
Summary: He didn't know why, but since the second he saw George walk through the doors of the ballroom, he wanted him. Wanted him to himself.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	ballroom

**Author's Note:**

> \- twitter: dnfmilf  
> \- if dream or george ever state that they're uncomfortable with shipping/fanfic/etc. I will take this down immediately. respect their boundaries :)

George steps into the ballroom, a slight click filling his ears as the heels of his shoes hit the polished floor. A soft ballad was playing, it's beautiful melody muffled under multiple voices. George didn't usually like public gatherings, especially when it involves this many people, but he pushed his distaste to the side. He enjoys ballroom dancing, so much in fact he tries to attend as many of the events as he can. He thinks of them as a good break from the stress of his job. 

Making his way to the food bar, he greeted a few of his acquaintances with a slight smile and wave. He spots one of his better friends, Nick, speaking to someone across the room. A boy with blond hair, green eyes, and a chiseled jawline. George finds himself staring at the pair as the blond boy smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth momentarily. He was about to look away and take a biscuit or two from the stand until the boy gave him a glance. That same bright smile was painted on his face as he looks at the brunet, eyes quickly sizing him up. Taking a sip of his drink, the blond smirked into his cup before giving his attention back to Nick. George could feel his face heating up. He pats his face lightly and takes a breath before finally doing what he had came to the stand for. Grabbing a biscuit, he stuffs it into his mouth. 

He spots a drink stand a few feet away from the food bar. Taking a cup and filling it halfway with a mystery drink, he takes a swig, feeling a warm alcohol travel down his throat. His face screws up slightly, surprised that out of all the drinks on the stand he chose whiskey. He wasn't opposed to it, though. It would relax him. He takes another quick sip and turns around as another more familiar song sounds. His mind traces back to the paper he took from the entrance desk that told him all of the songs that would be played. The tune that was playing was the signal of the first dance. 

Everyone's bodies shift and their faces light up with grins. Men were already grabbing ladies hands, leading them to the large dance floor. The floor was filling up fairly quickly and George didn't want to be left out for the first dance, so he turns his back to the crowd to set is drink down. By the time he was ready to hit the dance floor every girl already had a partner. He sighed, looking around to see if he had overlooked anyone. After darting his eyes around the huge room, his gaze settles upon the only person standing on the sidelines like him. The boy he had spotted earlier. The green eyed boy was already staring at George, a small smirk plastered on his face and his back pressed against the wall. George's breath hitches but he somehow manages to give a smile back to the other. 

The blond starts to walk over to George, smile getting slightly bigger with every step planted on the floor. He grabbed the smaller boy's hand and dragged him out into the crowd of people on the ballroom floor. "What are you doing?" George whispers, only loud enough for his now partner to hear. "Dancing with you, of course," he replies, resting his right hand on the brunet's waist, pulling him close, and placing his left hand in George's. George stiffens a bit, not quite used to the sudden closeness. "O-Okay, then." he says, gripping onto the blonds hand and putting his left hand on the taller boy's arm. "So, what's your name?" George asks. 

"Clay," The blond responds with a smile.

"Clay..." George repeats, grinning slightly after he says it. "You?" _Clay_ asks him. "I'm George." 

Clay hums in response. They start swaying lightly, George subconsciously leaning into Clay's touch. There is a notable height difference between the two. Just by looking at him  
George guessed Clay was about six foot five. When the music reaches a crescendo, the two men start moving their feet.

_Back. Right. Forward. Left._

"How old are you?" George asks out of the blue. "I am 21," Clay answers. "Oh, I'm 24," George adds, not waiting for the other man to ask him. A small blush creeps up on Clay's face, though hidden by the dim lighting of the ballroom. "Really? I would have guessed you're, like, 19 or something," The younger man teased. "Oh, shut up," he giggled. They kept a steady rhythm as they danced. Shifting weight from foot to foot, they grew comfortable in each other's embrace. 

Clay let his hand travel to the bottom of George's back, softly rubbing small circles with his thumb. He didn't know why, but since the second he saw George walk through the doors of the ballroom, he wanted him. Wanted him to himself. It was a weird feeling for Clay to be so attracted to someone at first glance. If he was being honest, Clay stayed hidden in the back of the room on purpose so George would _have_ to dance with him, talk to him, touch him. Call him desperate, but it's the truth.

George notices the gesture, looking up at Clay's hypnotizing eyes. They're green, laced with specs of gold, blue, and brown. His eyelashes match the color of his hair, a dirty blond. George lets himself stare into those eyes he liked oh-so much. He doesn't realize how close they've gotten until the music dies down and they have to pull out of the embrace they were in. 

It takes them a few long seconds to peel their hands away from each other. Why do they feel so connected already? They hardly know one another, they just formally met less than ten minutes ago. Is this love at first sight like in the movies? Possibly.

They walk wordlessly to the back of the room near the benches. Sitting down on one side of a bench, Clay pats the vacant space next to him, inviting George. The smaller boy willingly takes the seat, a rose tint settling on his cheeks and nose. "Why are you in London? Live here?" Georges asks, trying to make conversation. "Kinda. I go to school here and dorm, but I'm thinking about buying an apartment here one day so I can actually live here, like forever," Clay replies. With a quick nod, George leans his head back against the wall. He is quite tired. With the endless all-nighters and night shifts at work, he's exhausted most of the time. The only time he's free to catch up on sleep is during the weekends. No work, no socializing, just laying in his bed and sleep calling with his friends. 

"I like your accent, by the way. It's cute," Clay blurts out, not realizing what he said until a few seconds later when George giggles. "Thank you, Clay," George says in a flirty tone when he notices the slight blush arising on Clay's face, only making the pink tint on Clay's cheeks more prominent. The younger man leans his head back as well, turning it slightly toward George. They make eye contact and George gets lost inside Clay's eyes for what seems like the millionth time that night. Clay makes a playful pouty face, his wavy locks falling in his eyes. "What, you just not gonna compliment me back?" Clay challenges. The brunet exhales as he brushes his fingers along Clay's. "Well.. I love your eyes," he says. He can see Clay's gaze shift down to his lips and back up to meet his eyes. 

"Thank you," he lets out, growing flustered. 

George smiles as he locks pinkies with he boy, not breaking eye contact once. 

Music started up again; the second song of the night. The pair get up and walk to the center of the dance floor, still holding pinkies. They get in positions and start to dance. The song holds a steady dynamic as they waltz around the floor. "You don't look like the type to be into ballroom dancing, you know," George says. "I get that a lot. Too pretty?" Clay teases, throwing a wink at the boy in his arms. "Maybe.." George trails off, shocked at his own response. "Oh? I could say the same about you, George," Clay whispers, voice deep as his lips brush against the smaller boy's ear. That was enough to send shivers down George's spine. He hums in amusement. 

The song slows down a bit, as do the two boys. They have held eye contact through most of the night. Each little speck of color in Clay's eyes, every freckle on his face, was engraved in George's brain like a branding stamp. He has been staring at Clay's face for so long that he barely took notice of his outfit. The blond wasn't dressed in a quintessential ballroom suit. Instead, he wears a tight-fit black button up, black slacks, and white shoes. There's a small silver chain hanging around his neck. To George, he looks perfect. 

Clay held a tight grip around his partner's waist as they danced and spun through the room. Sounds of laughter coming from small kids and teenagers could be heard. "You wanna head out after this dance? You seem tired," Clay offers. George nods sluggishly. Soon enough, the song ends with a grand closing note. They loosen their grip around each other as they step off the floor one last time. Waving goodbye to friends, they both check their pockets to make sure they had all of the items they arrived with. 

Silently, they walk out of the double doors and out into the empty hallway. Slowly but surely, they find their way to the exit, Clay grabbing a hold of George's wrist to stop him from opening the door. "Give me your phone, please," the youngest says politely. "Wh- Never mind. Okay," George answers, handing his unlocked phone to the boy, fulfilling his request. Swiping and typing, a few seconds later Clay hands the device back to George. "I had fun with you tonight," the blond says, smiling wholesomely. "Same to you," George replies. He turns back toward the door, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

Clay grabs hold of his wrist once more, pulling the boy toward him. The taller boy rests a hand on George's jawline, caressing his soft skin with a thumb.

"Can I kiss you, George?"

Seconds pass.

_"Yes."_

With that, Clay connected their lips together gently. George stayed still for a second or two out of shock, melting into the kiss shortly after. About five seconds later, Clay pulls away and mutters a quick "Goodbye, text me later" before smiling and turning his back against George, who was standing still like a statue. 

"Goodbye."


End file.
